Genius at Work
by Benevolent Goddess
Summary: PreRENT. Collins gets bored and decides to test out his latest theory.


**Disclaimer**: I came up with this idea while reading the screenplay for the film written by Stephen Chbosky. Of course, this version ended up being scrapped, but it had quite the interesting description of how Collins got kicked out of M.I.T. That said, the inspiration for this story comes from that screenplay. I don't own Collins, RENT, and goodness knows I don't own any colleges. I'd claim Mr. Meyer, but he's old and mean. This is my first shot at writing. Hopefully I don't suck.

* * *

The library of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, or M.I.T. for short. This is where one Professor Thomas B. Collins usually spent his afternoons, typing away madly as he tried to finish a documentation paper on his newest theory, one simply titled Actual Reality. This afternoon in particular was no different. Collins, as his friends called him, was sitting deep in thought at one of the computers. He was working on one of the key elements to his theory, but quickly became bored with the tedious task of typing it up. He decided he'd have a bit of fun with Actual Reality, and rather than writing about it, he'd test it out on his students and everyone else who happened to be on campus that day.

One must understand that, to Collins, Actual Reality was more than just a theory. It was a way of life. Actual Reality was about going out and standing up for something you believed in, no matter how many waves were made along the way. Collins had many causes that he cared deeply about, and was never afraid to do what it took to get his point across. Once he'd even gone as far as to streak through the Parthenon in an attempt to disprove all misconceptions about the naked human body. Today he was going to explore one of his more conventional causes and see what happened. He stood up on a chair in the middle of the library and cleared his throat, ready to make his impromptu lecture.

"What is Actual Reality?" he asked loudly. A few heads popped up here and there, looking to see who was causing the commotion in the otherwise quiet building. "My theory on Actual Reality is about life. It's about acting up, fighting for your cause. You have to make a stand sometimes! Now I ask you, what do you believe in?"

"Animal rights," said a timid voice beside him. Collins looked to his left and saw a small, rather mousy looking girl smiling up at him from her book. He nodded appreciatively.

"Freedom!" shouted an older looking student who stood by a bookshelf. The ball was starting to roll.

Several more voices rang out. "Equality!"

"The first amendment!"

"Not listening to my parents anymore!"

More voices began to shout, and within a few seconds Collins had successfully gotten half of the library on their feet. Everyone brought something fresh and new to his ears. By now Collins had worked himself into a frenzy. He gestured dramatically to the computer he was sitting at. "Yes! Yes!" he exclaimed, his voice rising to a booming crescendo. "And now I give you... Actual Reality!" With that, he crouched down by the keyboard of the computer and unceremoniously pushed the enter button.

It took a few moments, but then in total unison every computer on the M.I.T. server began a rousing rendition of "Danke Schoen". Collins beamed and hopped off the chair, the students around him going wild. This is what he had worked on for an entire semester while trying to teach a bunch of kids who didn't care, and he was proud beyond words to see that these same students appreciated it.

Just then, an elderly librarian turned the corner. She was fuming, and seeing the congregation circling around Collins, marched right up to him as she spoke. "Quiet, you little monkeys!" She wagged a finger at him to further prove her point, head tilted back to get a better look at him. Although he towered over her, she didn't seem to notice or care. "And turn down that horrid music while you're at it, too!" With that, she spun on her heel and marched back around the corner, off to tend to her librarian duties. He stood stone-faced until he was sure he was out of the old woman's earshot, then tossed his head back and laughed in that way only he could – a deep, rich chuckle that made everyone who heard it laugh right along with him.

Meanwhile, the eggheads of M.I.T. had their hands quite full as they tried to restore their server. They used every trick in the book they could think of to turn off the music, which had been looped to play non-stop, but to no avail. Plain and simple, nothing worked. It was obvious to them that whoever had done this was not only some sort of anarchist, but a genius when it came to computers as well. What they didn't realize in their mad rush was that every time they tried to turn off the music, fifty cents was donated to the United Negro College Fund.

The next day as Collins began a lecture on AIDS and its effect on society, he got a phone call from the department head to immediately come to his office. Of course, Collins thought nothing of it. Perhaps, he mused to himself, he was going to get an accolade for his brilliant demonstration of music and the human psyche, a lesson he himself grew bored with a few months earlier. Plainly stated, Professor Collins was known for his off-beat approaches to learning. So a trip to see the department head was really nothing out of the ordinary.

Rapping on the doorframe lightly, Collins peered in to see Mr. Meyer, the department head. He was an older looking gentleman who acted as if he was ready to spit venom at any given moment. Always standing in a stoic manner, no one had ever seen him laugh. Or smile. Or for that matter, even look amused. The closest he came to showing emotion was when he had to deal with Collins, then his face often turned scarlet. In Collins' mind, he was also the Nazi of Education. On this particular day, he didn't look very pleased to see Collins. Then again, he never looked very pleased to see Collins.

"Sit," the balding man grumbled, indicating to an overstuffed leather chair. Collins obliged him, and before he could get a word out of his mouth, Mr. Meyer began to lay into him – hard. "All our sources have found that this abuse of the server was linked to your account, Professor Collins. All this blasphemy points directly at you. This is highly unacceptable, for several reasons. Would you like to know why?"

Collins blinked. "Well, not re-"

But Mr. Meyer would hear none of it. "First! You interrupted every single person logged into our system with that horrible song of yours. Teachers lost the grades they were entering, and your own students lost the papers they were working on so painstakingly. Second, we have found out that a donation for $3,175.50 was made to the United Negro College Fund... from this school."

"And I'm sure they appreciate it, sir," Collins said with the slightest hint of a smile. "I think you, of all people, should see the genius of my theory. The students actually participated for the first time in months! They have so many things they want to learn about, so many ideas they want to share, so many-"

Mr. Meyer held up a withered hand to stop him. "Good for the students. It's you who's going to be packing."

Collins was sure his jaw had hit the floor. "Packing?"

For the first time since he'd met him, Mr. Meyer smiled. Or maybe he grinned. Actually, he beamed oh so jubilantly. "Yes, packing. As in, you're fired. I'm sorry to say, Mr. Collins, but you won't be teaching any more students in the great state of Massachusetts. Your time here is over."

At this point, Collins wasn't sure what to say. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, resembling a fish. "B-But I... I thought that..." he stammered, his hands motioning wildly as he searched for the right words. "I don't have any other place to go, Mr. Meyer."

"You should have thought of that before you started blasting your new age, progressive poppycock and spending our school's funds!" fumed Mr. Meyer, whose face was rapidly turning redder. Suddenly, he stood up and pointed toward the door. "I want you out of here! Out for good!"

And just like that, Collins got expelled from M.I.T.

The next day his bags were packed and his goodbyes were said. Collins strode into the library one last time, setting down his suitcases near one of the computers. He didn't have long, but he was hellbent on proving his last point and showing the entire campus that Actual Reality was more than just some ex-professor's crazy theory. He easily managed to hack his way into the system, typing furiously now as he hurried to get the job done. It didn't take much effort to tap into the P.A. system, and for the first time since he'd gotten news of being expelled, he cracked a smile. Within a few minutes, he'd finished. Pressing the enter button, he quickly gathered his belongings and made a beeline to the exit.

The sun was shining brightly that day, and Collins made note that it would be a good time to do some traveling. Christmas was in a month or two, maybe he'd go visit his friends back in New York City for the holidays. He wasn't sure what was the future was going to hold, but as he slid on his sunglasses everything in the world seemed right. "Wild Thing" suddenly started to blare all throughout the campus, and Collins set his suitcases down at the top of the library stairs just long enough to light up a joint. Going down the stairs that day, Thomas B. Collins began a new chapter of his life, and became a legend in the halls of M.I.T.

Yes indeed, Collins was a genius at work.


End file.
